


hettyc

by MageOfCole



Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Adopted Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Obi-Wan Kenobi, Branding, Bruck Chun Redemption, Burns, Childhood Trauma, Demiromantic Obi-Wan Kenobi, Fire, Forgiveness, Gen, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Minor Bruck Chun/Obi-Wan Kenobi, One-Sided Attraction, Padawan Bruck Chun, Past Slavery, Past Torture, Past Violence, Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting, Whumptober 2020, Young Obi-Wan Kenobi, childhood crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole
Summary: (burning)When Bruck closes his eyes, he dreams of fire and smoke, and a body that is too heavy in his arms. The Force is screaming, wailing in distress, and Bruck always wakes up the moment Xantos pushes him into the flames.(No.14 - Is Something Burning?)
Relationships: Bruck Chun & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bruck Chun & Qui-Gon Jinn, One-Sided Bruck Chun/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949908
Comments: 62
Kudos: 743





	hettyc

When Bruck closes his eyes, he dreams of fire. Of smoke invading his lungs until he can’t breath, of it burning in his eyes until he can’t see past the cloud of acidic grey that surrounds him. He sees the red flames every time he tries to sleep, feels the burning heat on his skin and hears the Temple groaning around him. The Force is screaming, wailing in distress, and Bruck regrets listening to his father, he hates himself for following his orders to befriend Lord Xanatos for the good of their House.

He never could have known that _this_ was what Xanatos had been planning; he had thought the older man had simply missed the Temple when he had asked all those questions. He had thought that he had wanted to be his friend - Bruck had too few friends nowadays. None of his creche mates wanted to be around him, not after Kenobi disappeared, and Xanatos had become a sympathetic ear. His clan siblings blame him for Obi-Wan having been sent away, and Bruck doesn’t hold it against them. If he hadn’t taunted him, hadn’t _lied_ , then Obi-Wan wouldn’t have been sent away. He wouldn’t have been stolen. Even Aalto avoids him, unwilling to go against the tide, and Xanatos was the only one who listened.

But Xanatos had betrayed him.

Bant’s limp body is heavier in his dreams than she had been in real life, but he continues to drag her, because her life depends on it. The flames get hotter, the smoke thicker, and he hears laughter, dark and sadistically amused, in the darkness around him. It echoes in the smoke, vibrates in his bones, and while it had been nearly three years since the attack on the Temple, the fear is still fresh.

As always, Bruck wakes up the moment Xanatos pushes him into the fire. He doesn’t scream, not anymore, because Master Qui-Gon needs his sleep, so instead Bruck stays in his small bunk, wraps his blanket around his shaking shoulders, and tries to center himself.

Xanatos isn’t here. He isn’t at the Temple; he’s on _Jaster’s Legacy_ , surrounded by Mandalorians. It should scare him - Mandalorians used to hunt Jedi for sport, and had been one of their oldest enemies - but instead it makes him feel safer. He’s seen the way the Fetts treat the younger Kryze and… _Ben_. He’s seen the way they act around Bruck compared to how they do around his Master, they’re even warm enough to Duchess Satine, who has been nothing but patronizing and arrogant, and who is legally an adult, but only barely.

Mandalorians are widely known as powerful warriors, but they’re also known for their love of children. Bruck is fifteen, still a child in the eyes of the law, so he’s confident that the Mandalorians won’t attack him; the Council had counted on it when they picked Bruck and his Master for the mission. He’s young enough to be a child in the eyes of the Mandalorians, but skilled enough to hold his own in battle if it needed to come to it.

The Fetts weren’t like Xanatos. They wouldn’t hurt him to get at Master Qui-Gon, no matter how much they hated the Jedi Master.

“Quiet your thoughts, Padawan.” His Master says gruffly from his own cot, and Bruck winces guiltily - he hadn’t meant to wake up the older Jedi with his stewing. “Release your emotions into the Force and focus on the here and now.”

“Yes Master.” Bruck murmurs, “Sorry, Master.”

But he can’t get Xanatos’ voice out of his head, mocking him as he holds his face against the flames, telling him about all the terrible things he did to Obi-Wan and what he’d do to Bruck. He doesn’t want Master Qui-Gon to see the memory again, not after everything he had put him through with his nightmares when their bond had still been new, he doesn’t want his Master to have to deal with that pain again. He needs to get control of himself. Master Qui-Gon needs his sleep, and Bruck needs to get a hold on his emotions so that he can prove that he’ll be a good Jedi.

Master Qui-Gon grumbles something under his breath, rolling over to put his back to where Bruck sits. “If you can’t get back to sleep, perhaps you should go meditate, and work to strengthen your connection to the Living Force.” He orders, and Bruck bows his head, unable to face his Master’s disappointment again.

“Yes Master.” He gathers his tunics quickly, pauses as he considers the new tears in the fabric, then grabs his sewing kit as well. He may be on the run, and his tunics may be falling apart, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to look his best. Besides, it had always been easier to concentrate when he could do things with his hands.

He ducks out of the room he shares with his Master as the older man’s breath evens out again, and he hurries down the hall as quietly as he could, intent on heading towards the rec room. The ship is quiet in it’s night cycle, and the halls are empty. _Jaster’s Legacy_ is a ship designed to hold more people than just seven, it leaves the ship feeling abandoned, and Bruck had read enough on the history of the True Mandalorians to know why.

The Jedi had been a part of a massacre. They had been the weapons turned on a group of innocent people and used to kill them. To add insult to injury, the Senate wouldn’t allow for any reparations to be payed to their victims, claiming the Civil War as the cause without acknowledging that be sending the Jedi on an ill-researched mission that would end in a battle that murdered the majority of the most popular Mandalorian political party, they had made the fighting _worse_. Bruck had done his research. He’d looked into the modern history of Mandalore and written a report for his Master to read, as was expected of a Padawan, but Bruck suspects his Master hadn’t even looked at it, considering the way he had been acting. But Master Qui-Gon was enamoured with the Mandalore Kryze wants to build, and didn’t want to hear of any other possible choice.

If it were up to Bruck, the True Mandalorians would be in charge; he had enjoyed the historical and political articles the Reformer, Mand’alor Jaster Mereel, had written, and logically he could believe that Fett shared the same ideals as his adoptive father. But it’s not, and Bruck needs to follow orders. The Senate wants Satine Kryze on the Throne, so that’s what Bruck has to do.

He steps into the rec room, and falters. Ben Fett is kneeling on a small cushion, _meditating_ , and stripped down to a too-large sleep shirt that slips down his shoulder, revealing a twisted scar over his shoulder blade. Bruck knows immediately what it is, and it makes him feel sick.

A brand.

Bruck stutters, and the youngest Fett twitches, head lifting.

“Good evening, Padawan Chun.” The redhead greets politely, peering at the Padawan over his shoulder, and Bruck shifts awkwardly, feeling guilty for staring.

Ben is odd. Bruck may have grown up with Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Ben Fett is completely different from the boy he had known. Ben is calmer, quieter, and a _lot_ more dangerous, and Bruck doesn’t know how to act around him. Bruck himself is no longer the boy he had been either, and for the last three years he had thought his childhood rival was dead.

“Sorry.” He mutters quickly, “I can go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine.” Fett says easily, shifting out of his meditation pose to stretch out his legs, and he adjusts the sleeve of his old shirt to slide it back over the twisted, melted skin on his back. “You can stay.” He offers Bruck a slightly awkward smile that has the other teenager blushing, “I don’t mind.”

Bruck shifts again, considering the offer, before he moves into the rec room, moving towards the couch. “Thanks.” The moment he’s sitting, he starts pulling out the needle and thread he needs to patch up the tears in his tunic. They sit in silence for a long moment, Bruck tending to his clothes and Ben methodically taking apart his sniper rifle, before Bruck speaks again. “I’m sorry.” Ben’s hands pause on the barrel of his blaster, glancing up at Bruck from under his shaggy bangs, and the pale-haired boy swallows nervously.

He had imagined apologizing to his former creche mate for years, since the moment he and the rest of their clan had been told that their clan-brother was gone. Bant and Reeft had cried for months, Garen had stopped paying attention in piloting classes, Aalto had stopped talking for nearly a year, and Bruck? Bruck had imagined finding Obi-Wan, of going and saving him, of being the hero and showing everyone how good a Jedi he was. He had gotten everything he had ever wanted; he had been chosen as a Padawan, he was the best in every class, but as more time passed, it started to feel rotten.

He had gotten everything, but Obi-Wan had only suffered.

“Whatever for?”

“I’m sorry.” Bruck says again, voice wobbling, and he ducks his head in shame. “I was horrible to you -” he thinks back to the brand that had been burned into Ben’s shoulder, and feels like the worst sort of being, “- it’s my fault you were taken.”

“No, it’s not.” Ben states firmly, voice a lot closer than it had been before, and the cushion next to him dips as the young Mandalorian sits beside him. “It was no one’s fault but Xanatos’, and my own.”

Bruck scoffs, “That’s ridiculous.”

Ben shrugs, “I’m the one who slipped away from the farm, and Xanatos was the one who sold me.”

“And it’s my fault you were there!” Bruck says sharply, closing his eyes against the burning tears, and his hands clench in the fabric of his tunic. “I was the one who lied! I was the one who treated you horribly and taunted you so that I could get you in trouble.”

“But I was the one who rose to the attack.” Ben states simply, “Anger isn’t the way of the Jedi, but I just kept getting angry - I would have made a terrible Jedi.”

Bruck bristles, “You would have been an _amazing_ Jedi.” Ben just chuckles, and Bruck twitches faintly when a light hand rests on his arm. “I’m sorry that I ever told you otherwise.”

“I don’t blame you, Bruck.” Ben tells him gently, “Maybe I did, once, but not anymore.” Bruck hiccups. “I forgive you. I forgave you years ago.” The hand moves to press against his burned cheek, and Bruck opens his eyes to stare at the other boy in shock.

Ben _smiles_ at him, and Bruck’s heart flutters in his chest, cheeks warming. It had been a long time since this had happened, but Bruck is older now, more mature, and he’s learned how to deal with confusing emotions in ways that don't lead to him lashing out.

“We were little kids, Bruck - what happened _wasn’t your fault_.”

Overwhelmed and close to tears, Bruck leans forward and presses his face into the other boy's shoulder, shaking under the weight of all the harm he had caused.


End file.
